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Has there been an attempt on her life before? My heart clenches at the mere thought.
Rolling over, I grab my phone from the nightstand. The streetlamps outside cast pools of yellow light on the walls and ceiling, illuminating my otherwise darkened bedroom. I meant to just lie down on my bed for a couple of minutes to compose myself after our fight before I headed into the shower, but I’ve remained here for almost an hour now. Because I can’t get our fight out of my head. Several parts of that fight, in fact.
After sitting up so that my back is resting against the headboard instead, I start searching the internet for news articles about Kayla. I try everything I can think of.
Kayla Ashford. Assassination attempt. Kidnapping. Assault. House fire. Mugging. Basically any crime I can think of that would explain her words. But nothing comes up.
Based on the nonexistent news articles, nothing dangerous has ever happened to Kayla Ashford.
But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Families who are as rich as the Ashfords would’ve made sure to keep things like that out of the news.
Which is the other part of our fight that I can’t get out of my head.
She truly believes that assassination attempts and kidnappings don’t happen in real life. And there are two reasons for that assumption. If it’s an assassination, the hitman might be skilled enough to make it look like an accident. And if he’s not, or if it’s a kidnapping instead, the family is often rich and powerful enough to make sure that it doesn’t end up on the news. After all, no one wants their private family matters to be blasted across national television for strangers to pick through.
So assassination attempts and kidnappings do happen. Especially to people like Kayla. And it’s important that she understands that.
Dropping my phone on my chest, I slide a hand underneath my head and stare up at the pools of light in the ceiling while my mind churns.
If I only knew what ‘He wouldn’t even be acting like this if it weren’t for—’ actually meant, things would be a lot easier.
I tap my finger against the back of my phone as I keep staring up at the ceiling while I sort things through in my mind.
“Ah, fuck it,” I say with a sigh as I at last make a decision.
Picking up my phone again, I open the group chat that my brothers and I have, and send a message.
Me: I need your help.
For about a minute, nothing happens. But it’s only early evening, and I know that neither Eli nor Kaden is away for an assassination right now. Not with Kaden’s wedding happening in two weeks. Rico might be in a meeting, depending on if there has been some kind of urgent matter, but he usually tries to keep normal working hours so that he and Isabella can actually have a life too.
At last, a reply comes in.
Eli: Beg us.
Narrowing my eyes, I glare at the screen. Is he serious?
Another message quickly follows. From Kaden, this time.
Kaden: Yes, Golden. Beg us.
“Motherfuckers,” I mutter at the screen as I roll my eyes at my annoying older brothers.
But I really do need their help, so I keep my curses to myself and instead give them what they want.
Me: Please.
Eli: Ha. Told you she’s making him desperate enough to beg. Now pay up, Kaden.
Kaden: …
Kaden: Fine.
An exasperated sigh escapes my chest, and I scowl down at my phone as I send an annoyed message back.
Me: A bet? Seriously? You assholes.
Eli: You bailed on me and Raina last Sunday. We almost starved to death without any food.
